


Alone Together

by archosaur_automaton



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Childhood Memories, Friendship, M/M, Sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:27:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23761552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/archosaur_automaton/pseuds/archosaur_automaton
Summary: Julian makes a confession to Odo. Will it lead to something meaningful, or was it all a mistake? A story about friendships and forging unlikely connections.
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Odo
Kudos: 13





	Alone Together

“I managed to reattach the limb, but you’ll have to take a ganglionic regeneration serum to keep the nerve bundles from atrophying,” Julian said to the Brazkonian on his table.

“Unfortunately for you, the damage done to the cargo bay can’t be regenerated so easily,” Odo said gruffly. He motioned to his deputies. “Put him in a holding cell until we hear word from the embassy on Brazkon.” Silently, the arachnoid man got up and walked with the two officers out of the medical bay, a sullen expression on his face.

Odo scoffed. “Petty thieves. They’re never very bright about their schemes, are they?”

Julian nodded, sitting down at his desk. “Brazkon Prime isn’t even part of the Federation! That’s sure to start a diplomatic row. I’ve no doubt he’ll end up in very hot water with his government.” He tapped at a PADD, his attention shifting entirely to the paperwork.

Odo grunted, his arms crossed over his chest. He looked down at the doctor, studying him closely. After a moment, Bashir looked over at him quizzically. “Was there something else I could help you with, Constable?”

“Actually, there was. I’ve been meaning to speak with you about this for a while now.” Julian raised an eyebrow but remained silent. Odo made a small harrumph, before continuing. “For a long while, I wasn’t sure, given my limited experience with observing humans, but it’s become strikingly obvious that you have a certain...interest in me.”

Julian let out a laugh, before collecting himself. “Not that I mean any offense, constable, but you are unfortunately not my ‘type’, if you understand my meaning.”

Odo tilted his head to one side. “I’m not implying romantic or sexual attraction. In fact, just the opposite. Still, when we work together, there is a sense of...excitement I can detect, an eagerness. If it were romantic in nature, that would be one thing; but since it is not, and I have no explanation as to the cause, I find it somehow more distracting than the alternative.”

Julian blinked a few times and averted his gaze, his face scrunched up in thought. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but no sound came out, and he sat there agape for several moments. Eventually, however, he cleared his throat, shifting in his seat as he searched for the words. “I hadn’t thought that I was doing anything that might give it away,” he said in a small voice.

“It’s my job to be able to ‘read’ people, to make inferences as to the behaviours and thought-processes of humanoids. Also,” he added, a tone of amusement in his voice, “you are perhaps more transparent than you like to think. At any rate, I don’t mean to be demanding, but I feel our professional relationship has suffered somewhat because of this.”

Julian nodded slowly, the gears of thought whirling visibly in his head. “I only hope that you won’t think it terribly odd,” he said, a plaintive expression on his face. Odo harrumphed, more curious than annoyed, and Julian nodded again slightly before continuing. “And of course our circumstances are so very different, but -- you are of course familiar with my genetic augmentation, yes?”

Odo nodded, the annoyance creeping back into his voice. “Go on...”

Julian sighed. “It’s just that...as a child, I was developmentally disabled. I had delays in the acquisition of language skills, motor coordination, an incredibly poor memory. I was...different from everyone else my age, and even then I knew it.” He swallowed, an uneasy tone in his voice. “Different in a way I could tell was...wrong. I felt like a disappointment, like I was in some way shameful, as if my very existence was a discomfort to my parents. Until I was augmented, that is; then I was different in a good way. I was capable of grand achievements, of excelling, of being useful to my parents. But even though I had changed, something stayed the same; I came to realize that I was still being dehumanized. First for being defective, and then for being a miracle of science, something my parents could brag about and show off, someone who could...do party tricks for an enrapt audience. ”

He looked up at the ceiling, his lower lip quivering ever so slightly. “Wherever we went, whomever we were with, my father would encourage me to perform all sorts of...feats. Recite a poem by Wordsworth backwards, Julian. Name all the species of noctis beetle on Kaligar 2B, Julian. Tell me what color shoes I was wearing exactly 211 days ago, Julian.” He let out a shaky breath, running his fingers through his hair, before looking back at Odo.

“What I mean to say with all of this, is that...to be perfectly honest, I find myself seeing a reflection of my own life in yours, to some degree.”

Odo tilted his head. “That’s an interesting statement.”

Julian looked apologetic. “I know. Like I said, I -- I suppose I can’t presume to really know your circumstances. But there are things I cannot help but feel...resonate with my own experience. Being so different from those around you, feeling unable to ‘fit in’, being so distant and alien from those around you. Did you know,” he said with a wry smile, “that as a child, even after I was augmented, for the longest time I was convinced I was some freakish creature plucked from another world and set loose? At eighteen, I ran my own DNA tests on myself, desperate to find something that proved I was from elsewhere, that I wasn’t truly human.” He rubbed at his temple, frowning. “I’m sorry, I’m rambling.”

“Not at all, doctor,” he said, his tone flat and his expression even more inscrutable than usual. “Please, by all means continue.”

Julian took a deep breath. “I suppose where I’m going with all of this is, that in all of this I feel a strange sense of...not quite kinship, but affinity, of connection. We aren’t really close personal friends, but all the same I feel...a little more comfortable around you, like I do with the other augments. I had always hoped that perhaps we could get to know each other better -- to bond over some shared understanding of what it’s like to be an outsider.” He stared at his hands, a drained and tired look on his face. “That’s really all I had to say on that subject, I suppose.”

“Thank you very much for sharing, doctor,” Odo said, uncrossing his arms abruptly. “Especially about such a...personal affair. However, I think we would both be best served if we maintained our current professional distance, especially given the nature of our respective jobs.”

Julian nodded rapidly. “Oh, of course, absolutely. That’s a perfectly reasonable reaction, and really it makes a lot of sense. I suppose I’m just grateful to have had the chance to say all that. I only hope this doesn’t create any...friction between us.”

“I don’t think there’s any need to worry about that, doctor,” Odo said, turning to leave. “Now, if it’s alright with you, I have some business to attend to. Good evening.”

Julian gave a small wave as the changeling left the medical bay, a polite smile on his face. As soon as the constable was well out of view, however, he let out a long, slow breath. Breathing heavily, he put his head in his hands. “Computer; lights,” he said. There, as the room filled with darkness, Julian’s fingers curled tightly in his hair, his eyes screwing shut. And when the ache inside became too much to bear, there in the solitude of the medical bay, alone, Julian let the tears flow, and flow, and flow.


End file.
